Ginny Weasley and the Unforeseen Future
by stephsicola
Summary: HBP Spoilers. Hogwarts has closed. Ginny tries to deal with all of the changes, and finds solace in an unexpected person. The search for the Horcruxes and a way to defeat Voldemort continues.
1. The Aftermath

It was a late afternoon on a beautiful fall day when Ginny was out on her broom, just enjoying the freedom of flying, and the temporary escape from the terror of the past several months. Within a few moments it seemed, her entire life, and the entire wizarding world had been turned upside down by one Severus Snape. A dull ache still haunted her every time she thought of the kindly old man who had always been there for her family, who had not thrown her out in first year when she had been possessed by Tom Riddle. She shivered still to think about it. Soft-hearted Ginny still felt guilt over the deaths of the chickens and the petrified students. She went slightly higher, just to the tops of the trees that shielded her from the muggle eyes of the village. Flying had the amazing quality of both allowing her to think, and then, of clearing her mind of all thoughts so that she could just enjoy the moments of peace.

Everything had changed so much. She and Harry had enjoyed a brief but loving relationship, ended through his fear of losing her. She had accepted that decision and done her best to move on. And in fact, her best was quite enough. She had loved Harry for as long as she could remember, but through dating him had come to realize that he was simply a boy, and not everything she'd dreamed. He'd been kind to her though, and she'd enjoyed it. But now she was ready for something else, something more spectacular than anything she'd experienced during her years at Hogwarts.

Strange to think that this would have been her sixth year at Hogwarts, and yet she would not be going back at all. No one would. After Dumbledore's murder, the school had closed down. Too many parents were afraid to be parted from their children with Voldemort out in the open and teachers being revealed as the darkest of traitors. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already decided not to go back when the decision was made, and she felt some relief that she would not have to go too. The school brought back too many painful memories.

At the Burrow, things were strangely quiet. The crowd of brothers that she had always known had dissipated until it was just the three of them: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny. Bill and Charlie had been gone for years of course, and Percy was always at the Ministry, while Fred and George were busy at their shop, one of the few places that still remained open and busy, with some of their more serious trade items. It made her sad now to walk through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, with so many familiar places boarded up. These were dark times. Some said even darker than Voldemort's first reign. Ron spent most of his time at Grimmauld Place with Harry and Hermione, practicing the skills that would allow Harry to defeat Voldemort. A shrill call tore her from her thoughts, and she realized that her mother was calling her for dinner.


	2. Lessons

After dinner, Ginny went to her room and wrote in her diary (one that didn't write back) about all of the things that she had been thinking about. Even the ghoul in the attic didn't seem to be making as much noise anymore. After she finished with that, she wrote a short letter to Luna.

_Dear Luna,_

_It feels strange not to be going back to Hogwarts this year. I hope the Quibbler is still doing well with all of its increased publicity. And I hope you're having a good summer._

Ginny paused, wanting to write more, and yet feeling that she wasn't ready to confide everything she was feeling.

_Maybe you can come to the Burrow sometime. _

_Love,_

_Ginny. _

Ginny tied the letter to her new owl's foot and sent her out the window. After her brothers had all moved out and were largely on their own (although Mrs. Weasley still send plenty of food and other supplies to Grimmauld Place), money wasn't quite so tight, and so Arthur had one night brought home a small white owl for his only daughter, and she had named it Dragon to counteract its somewhat shy personality. Then she whispered _nox_ and laid down in the darkness, not sleeping for a very long time.

Meanwhile, somewhere else, a boy was lying awake, feeling quite alone in the world, and thinking of a red-head that he had barely noticed when she first came to Hogwarts. Finally, he fell asleep.

Ginny awoke fairly early the next morning to hear Dragon tapping his beak against the window. She opened it to find that he had a letter attached to his foot.

_Hi Ginny,_

_We're still looking for crumple-nosed snorcacks, but if we have time, I'll come visit you in the Burrow later next month. _

_Love,_

_Luna_

The oh-so typical Luna Lovegood response made Ginny smile, for she had found something that hadn't changed. Looney Luna was just as loony as ever. She pranced down the stairs to find breakfast waiting for her. As she ate her bacon, Molly Weasley explained the day's lesson plan. Ever since the decision had been made to close Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley had been instructing her daughter as best she could. She knew that her daughter wasn't getting the same well-rounded education that she would have, but she couldn't stand the idea of four of her children not finishing their educations. Most days consisted of charms work, for that was Mrs. Weasley's strength. Ginny groaned internally at another day of charms. Seeing the disappointment on her daughter's face, Mrs. Weasley let out the secret she'd been keeping for three days.

"Ginny, dear, charms aren't going to protect you in this war, so I think you need to study some more in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Ginny just looked at her miserably. "Mum, but who's going to teach me? Professor Lupin is off doing things for the Order all the time, along with everyone else. And there's no more Dumbledore's Army." When she said Dumbledore's name, her voice caught slightly, but she didn't let out any more emotion than that. Ginny had grown up a great deal over the past six years. "Well, Ginny, just because he's...well...just because Hogwarts is closed doesn't mean you have to stop practicing." Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to be able to say the awful truth either, even a few months later. No one could really believe that he was gone, even after all this time. But then Mrs. Weasley cheered herself, and Ginny, up by announcing: "That's why you're going to stay at Grimmauld Place for awhile, with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Harry is going to be teaching you." Ginny's heart leapt at the idea of seeing her friends again, even Harry. She wondered if things would be awkward. So much had happened at the end of the term that neither of them had ever really had to deal with the fact that they weren't dating anymore. "Pack your bags, dear. You're leaving at two. And as soon as you're done, come back here to work more on charms." But Ginny was already halfway up the stairs.


	3. Grimmauld Place

Ginny arrived via muggle car in front of Grimmauld Place later that afternoon and as she thought carefully of the address, number twelve appeared in front of her and Harry opened the door to her. She ran up to him and gave him a warm hug, glad to see him. She pulled back to look at him and was shocked by how much he had changed. His hair was messier than ever, and he was shockingly thin. A tired and haunted look filled his eyes, although he smiled at her.

"Hey Gin. We've missed you." A few moments later, her red-headed older brother appeared and gave her just as big of a hug. Years of sibling rivalry seemed to have vanished away in the light of recent events. All of them had grown up far beyond the normal maturity of sixteen and seventeen year olds. Hermione stood behind Ron, also smiling at Ginny but looking rather tired herself. Ginny wondered to herself what they had been doing to look so haggard, but decided to ask them about it later as they headed inside with her bags. Once in the front hall, she looked around. It was so different than when she'd first seen it: dark and dirty with the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black. The walls were now a nice neutral cream color, and the portrait was gone. A tapestry of the four founders of Hogwarts hung in its place. From the direction of the kitchen, she heard a soft melody. Harry saw her start at the sound, and said quietly, "Fawkes." She nodded, somehow not surprised that Dumbledore's phoenix had chosen Harry as his new companion.

Hermione led Ginny upstairs to where she would be sleeping, and Ginny was surprised to find that she would not be sharing a room with Hermione as she had so often done in the past. Hermione blushed when Ginny asked where she was sleeping and didn't answer, but Ginny thought she knew and gave a silent cheer that her two friends had at last figured things out. She wondered if it would be difficult to live with Harry.

Ginny unpacked and then went downstairs to join the others for dinner, prepared by Hermione in muggle-fashion. At Ginny's surprise, Hermione explained that she had always found cooking comforting, with its simple formulas. Like reading, it all made sense and had a logical ending. It was a simple meal of shepherd's pie, but it filled them up with warmth as they talked about recent events. Harry had become increasingly silent over the past several months, and it frightened Ginny how serious he had become. Then she chided herself for her fears, for he had lost so many people in this war. She still had her family, at least, even if they were spread to the four ends of the earth. She would always be a Weasley. She looked over at Ron and smiled at him, and he smiled back. Finally, Harry pushed back his chair and said,

"Tomorrow is enough time to start practicing again. Tonight, let's play a game of exploding snap." So they did, and Ginny won soundly. Exhausted from a day of muggle travel, she headed up to bed and collapsed, falling asleep almost immediately.


	4. Discoveries

Ginny awoke the next morning and on her way to the loo to brush her teeth, she ran into Hermione coming out of Ron's room. Hermione blushed even more furiously than before and ducked back into Ron's room. Ginny giggled to herself, glad that Hermione seemed happy. She had been so miserable the previous year when Ron had been Lavendar's "Won-won." Ginny giggled again as she brushed her teeth.

"You're awfully happy this morning," a male voice said behind her. She turned to see Harry leaning against the doorframe, watching her.

"Hermione came out of Ron's room and I thought she'd die of embarrassment to see me standing here. But I'm glad they're happy. They took long enough about it." She turned back to the mirror to continue brushing her teeth, but held Harry's gaze in the reflection.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy," Harry said softly, not breaking eye contact. Ginny shook her head. "You did make me happy, Harry. Trust me, I understand."

"I still care for you, Ginny." She sighed. "Harry, I do too. But we can't go back now. The whole world is completely changed. We were happy for a little while though, and that's enough." He nodded, and then turned and walked away without another word. She sighed again. She hadn't realized that he still felt that way, but she couldn't change how she felt. That childhood puppy love had faded now, and she felt that there was something else waiting for her. Someone else. If only she knew who it could be.

Down the hall, two people were whispering too each other. "Ginny saw me coming out of your room this morning. She knows I'm sleeping in here now." Ron glared at her.

"I thought we were going to be careful." Hermione furiously whispered back,

"She's not a baby. And besides, how long did you think we were going to keep it from her, living in the same house."

"She is a baby, she's my baby sister!" He argued. Hermione wouldn't back down however.

"Ron, she's sixteen, she's been possessed by Lord Voldemort, she's dated, and she's been on her own since all of you boys left. She's just as grownup as we are." He glared at her, not wanting to admit that she was right. But he latched onto one thing. "Well it's not exactly my fault that she was alone at home. Bill and Charlie haven't been there in years, and besides, Bill's married now. And she's better off without Percy. And well, Fred and George chose to leave. What was I supposed to do, let you and Harry go off without me?" She snuggled up against him. "No, Ron. It's not your fault. You just need to accept that she's not a little girl anymore." Together, they dressed and went down for breakfast. Ginny had conjured up eggs and bacon for everyone, but Harry was nowhere to be seen.


	5. Enter Draco

Somewhere else, a dark-haired boy was thinking about Ginny Weasley just as much as Harry Potter was, and calling himself the same names: prat, prick, and fool, although for different reasons. While Harry Potter had already had Ginny Weasley and given her up, Draco Malfoy had never even given her a chance. He had been too blinded by his father's prejudices to look at a Weasley with anything but contempt. But after his failed attempt to murder Dumbledore, he had spent a lot of time thinking about how much of who he was had been dictated by his father, and how little of it had actually been who he really was. He had been jealous of Golden Boy Potter because he was surrounded by people who loved him, professors who let him get away with murder, and worship from everyone. But in the past months, Draco had realized that Potter was lonely, and hated all the attention. He begrudgingly admired Potter, and realized that his own life at Hogwarts had been a series of mistakes, in the desperate and futile attempt to please his father. Killing Dumbledore had been the last task, and he had blown it. But it didn't matter. He had realized his mistake and fled, dreading Lord Voldemort's wrath. Since then he had carefully shielded himself using the occlumency techniques that Snape had taught him on the sly. Snape had told him that it was to protect himself from Dumbledore, but now he wondered if perhaps Snape had known what was going to happen.

Draco had now spent three months wondering from wretched muggle hovel to wretched muggle hovel, hoping to avoid the Dark Lord's attention. He smiled darkly at himself, and at the penance that he was paying for a lifetime of luxury at the expense of others' misery. He regretted every occasion that he had kicked a house-elf. He would have been grateful now for Dobby, but Dobby worshipped Harry Potter and hated everything to do with the house of Malfoy. He held himself very still as a rat crawled over his foot, and then suddenly grabbed it and broke its neck. He, a Malfoy, was reduced to eating rats. He couldn't afford to buy food, he had no muggle money, and all of his galleons and sickles and knuts were locked away safe in a vault at Gringotts at the very least, and most likely they had been confiscated. Who knew how long even Gringotts would be safe. The break-in first year had proved that the wizarding bank wasn't as impregnable as everyone had thought, and Hogwarts had proved to be just as vulnerable. Through his own planning, he thought miserably. The Death Eaters were gaining in power everyday, although the Ministry still put out a brave front. Even muggles were noticing things. How could they not? Voldemort didn't care if the wizarding world was exposed. He was methodically destroying it, brick by brick, and if muggles got caught in the crossfire, so much the better. Draco slammed his fist down on the dirty floor, raging at the blindness that had inflicted him his entire life.

But he held on to one thought. Ginny. Ginny he thought could redeem him, somehow.


	6. Ginny's Power

Harry was berating himself for letting Ginny go, for breaking up with her just when he needed her most. He'd missed her terribly when she'd been at the Burrow, but couldn't admit it, and now, she didn't want him anymore. He beat a pillow with his fist, trying to hold back his anger. He gave him and punched it so hard that feathers came flying out. Finally, he calmed down, but wondered how he was ever going to concentrate on teaching her defense. When he came downstairs, she was doing dishes, the Weasley way. He watched as soap poured itself into the sink and a sponge happily scrubbed the dishes. With a flick of her wand, a towel jumped out of a drawer and began cleaning the new dishes. He raised an eyebrow, and she caught his eye and laughed. He realized how long it had been since he'd heard laughter. He and Ron and Hermione had been constantly occupied with trying to figure out how to destroy the locket and figuring out ways to defend themselves, while Harry tried to figure out the ultimate answer: how to find the last horcrux and kill Voldemort. "I've been practicing with Mum," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "She's taught me a lot of practical skills, but I still can't defend myself very well. She sent me here so you could help me with that." He registered that she had been sent, and not come of her own accord. He began fingering his wand, figuring to catch her off guard. "Moody's" catch phrase, "constant vigilance" had become a mantra of Harry's life as well, something he felt needed to be passed on to those around him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw what Harry intended. "Expelliarmus!" she cried, and his wand flew out of his hand. She smiled smugly at him, and he grinned back as he bent over to pick up his wand. Her wand was suddenly pointing at him, and he waited, ready to say "protego" as soon as she spoke. But all of a sudden, his hair was in his eyes, and as he reached to push it out of the way, he realized that it was growing by the second, and he couldn't push it out of his eyes fast enough. Ginny flicked her wand, and his hair returned to normal.

"How did you do that," he asked, stunned, staring at the triumphant look in her eyes.

"Something I've been working on independently," she said. "I figured that intent is the biggest part of magic, and since surprise is a valuable asset, it would be better to be able to do spells without speaking." Harry stared at her. "Oh don't look at me like that. I don't know why anyone hasn't thought of it before. Anyways, it's not very good. I can't really do any damage yet." Harry ran his fingers through his now short hair that a moment before had been engulfing him. Ginny was no longer the girl who ran away at the sight of him, or a little girl. She was one of the most powerful witches that he had ever heard of, and no one had seen it coming, least of all him. He couldn't wait to see the look on Ron's face when he found out. He might have been able to see Hermione thinking up a scheme like this, but not Ginny. It was as if she could read the looks passing across his face.

"Look, Harry. I can fight too, and I wish everyone would stop treating me like a child. I know you have to take him down, but he's going to be surrounded by deatheaters, and I want to take down a few myself." She was tougher than she'd ever been, he could see that now. He nodded, slowly.

"What else can you do?" She looked over at a candle sconce on the wall, and all of a sudden, all of the flames lit. Suddenly he remembered a time in third year when Dumbledore had lit candles simply by passing his hand over them, and what Ginny was doing didn't seem so implausible. She reached out her hand, and his wand left his own hand, which was only holding on loosely, and it flew into her hand. "Looks like you're going to be doing some teaching too," he said.


	7. Friend or Foe

Draco whispered her name as he wandered through the dark streets. Suddenly, he could have sworn he felt her presence somewhere nearby. He dismissed the thought, thinking he was imagining things. He was on a muggle street with nice houses, a good area compared to what he had become used to living in. All of a sudden, she appeared out of nowhere, carrying a broomstick, dressed in robes. She had a smile on her face, and she didn't see him at first. He took a step forward, and a streetlight revealed his face. She looked at him for a moment, and it was clear that she didn't recognize him. He was dirty and his hair was no longer slicked back. He had dyed it black and let it grow out long so that it hung in his face, and his face was thinner than ever from hunger, his damn aristocratic cheekbones poking out of his face. "Ginny," he whispered, and collapsed, hunger and exhaustion finally catching up to him."

Ginny carefully walked over to the young man dressed in dirty muggle clothes, wondering if she'd heard correctly. She could have sworn that he whispered her name before he fell. When she rolled him over, she gasped. No matter how down on his luck he was, there was no doubt in her mind that she was cradling Draco Malfoy's head in her lap. Harry had told her how Draco had failed to kill Dumbledore, and so she assumed that he must have fled in terror, been hiding. But she still wasn't inclined to trust him enough to show him where they were hiding, so she wrapped her cloak around his head and headed back towards the house, awkwardly dragging him with her broom tucked under her arm.

When she opened the door, heads peeked down the stairs at Ginny and her burden. Three pairs of feet came rushing down the stairs, and three gasps as she revealed his identity. Ron was ready to throw him out that instant, Hermione wanted to wait for him to wake up, and Harry said nothing. Ginny didn't listen to anyone but half dragged-half carried him over to a sofa and laid him out, pushing the hair out of his face in a motherly fashion. She ordered Hermione to watch him and went to the kitchen to conjure up some beef broth. Returning a few moments later with a steaming cup, she waved her wand over his face, and he opened his eyes. Ron and Hermione stared, but she took no notice, and supporting his head, began to help him drink some of the tea.

She wasn't sure why she was doing this. At Hogwarts he had either taunted her or ignored her. But she pitied him. Something told her that her initial assumptions were right. No favored Deatheater would look so weak. Harry looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he spoke quietly,

"How is he?" There was no malice in his tone, and she wondered if he knew more about what had happened with Dumbledore than he was letting on.

"I don't know. I don't know much about healing. He seems terribly weak. I don't think he's eaten in days." Draco's eyes had closed again and his head had fallen back. She put down the cup of hardly touched broth and pulled a blanket over him. She went to push the hair out of his eyes again, and realized that he was burning hot to the touch. She glanced up at Hermione. "He has a terrible fever, Hermione. Is there anything you know that could help him?" Hermione nodded and went into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a poultice that she put on his forehead. Ginny seemed a little surprised by the quick work, so Hermione explained, "We never know what's going to happen next, so we wanted to be prepared in case we were stuck here for awhile or someone got injured, so we asked Neville to make a few things for us since he's so good at Herbology. And I've managed to collect quite a few potions ingredients as well." Ginny smiled.

"Hermione, we're so lucky to have you." Hermione smiled back at her, then realized that Ron was becoming increasingly uncomfortable at being in the same room with Malfoy, so she took him upstairs. That left Harry and Ginny alone together for all purposes, since Draco was still unconscious. She looked at him for his approval of the situation, and he nodded. She understood that while he didn't trust Draco completely either, he had the same analysis of the situation. After Draco's disappearance, they hadn't known whether to blame him or not, but it was becoming more and more clear that he acted out of fear rather than genuine malice when he became a Deatheater. Harry and Ginny sat in silence for a long time, and then Harry rose and went to bed himself, leaving Ginny to watch over Draco. She wasn't sure whether she was protecting him or protecting everyone else, but after awhile, she fell asleep too, sitting on the floor next to him, her head resting against his side.


	8. Delerium

_Fevered dreams haunted Draco as he lay on the sofa. He dreamt of red eyes and snakes and of a red-headed girl with a fiery temper. A phoenix flew overhead and burst into flames, ashes raining down. The girl stared at him, pain in her eyes, and the question: why? He looked down and saw Dumbledore's body lying at his feet. He shook his head, and tried to tell her, no, he didn't do it, but he couldn't speak. He awoke gasping for breath._

Draco sat up suddenly, bumping Ginny's head and waking her in the process. He stared at her for a moment, completely confused by her presence and by his surroundings. Then he remembered the events of the night before. He remembered saying her name, for the first time out loud. He'd always called her Weasley before. She just looked at him though, no anger or fear or hatred in her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" was all she said.

"Like I could eat a hippogriff," he said. She hid a smile, remembering stories of his run-in with the hippogriff in his third year. She picked up the broth and waving her wand in stirring motions, handed it to him, once again steaming hot. He held it with both hands and drank every last bit, then held it out to her again. "Thank you," he said, as politely as if it had been the finest feast and he himself in dress robes. She took it from him then rose and went into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with some toast.

"Try to eat that, you could use something solid in you." She realized that she sounded exactly like her mother, and found herself resisting the urge to say "poor dear" to him. A Malfoy would probably chew her finger off. She reminded herself that no matter how weak he was, he was still a Malfoy and probably still full of his rich pure-blooded pedigree. Draco shivered a bit, and the temporary hostility that she had felt faded with concern for him. She flicked her wand at the fireplace and suddenly a fire was roaring where before there had been nothingness. He stared at her. Never had he known how powerful she was. She smiled a little at him, shyly. He ducked his head, embarrassed. He had of course pre-judged her. He remembered first year telling Potter that some wizarding families are better than others. He suddenly felt as if it were true, but that the Weasleys were a far better bunch than the Malfoys.

"I'm sorry," he said. She thought to herself that he must be delirious. Malfoys didn't apologize. "For what," she asked, indulging a sick boy.

"For always making fun of your family. I wish I was a Weasley." Now she knew he was delirious, so she firmly told him,

"You're going up to bed until you're better." He meekly obeyed, leaning on her as they made their way up the stairs. Halfway up, it occurred to her that this was Harry's house and that she shouldn't just place Draco wherever she pleased, so she ended up leading him to her bedroom and tucking him into her bed. She grimly thought that Ron would have a fit, but then decided that it wasn't any of his business. After all, Draco was sick. It wasn't as if…she pushed the thought out of her head. It was absolutely ridiculous. He would be back to being an arrogant prat as soon as he had the energy.


	9. Fights and Feuds

Day by day, Draco grew stronger from the food and care provided by Ginny. She slept on the floor by his bed each night in case he needed anything, and Ron grew furious with her one day.

"Ginny, how dare you demean yourself like that, sleeping at his feet as if you were a dog. He's a _Malfoy,_ Ginny, don't forget it, and don't fool yourself into thinking that he has either."

"Hush!" She pleaded with him. "He'll hear you."

"So what," Ron said, raising his voice even louder. "Why would you care what a Deatheater thinks anyways. He tried to kill Dumbledore. What makes you think we're even safe in this house? He got them into Hogwarts, what makes you think we're safe.." His voice trailed off as a pale figure appeared in the doorway, leaning against it for support.

"You're right, you know," he said to Ron. Ginny's face went pale, and Ron's mouth dropped in shock. "I am a deatheater. Or at least, I was. But I'm still marked by it." At this, he roughly pulled up his sleeve and showed them the dark mark tattooed on his skin. Then after a moment, he covered it once again and walked out of the room." Ron and Ginny didn't speak to each other, and after a moment, Ginny went after Draco. She caught up to him halfway down the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going," she demanded as he leaned heavily on the stair railing. He haughtily looked up at her, a trace of the old Malfoy back in his eyes.

"I'm leaving. I don't need your charity or his hatred. I can take care of myself." She glared back at him.

"It's not charity, you idiot. We need as much help as you can get, and when you are better, you'll be able to help us." Fire flashed in his eyes as his temper matched her own.

"And what makes you think I would help you?" She slapped him, hard, leaving a red mark across her pale skin. Shocked at herself, she pulled back for a moment, and then reached out a hand to lead him back to the sofa. With more gentleness then he expected, she firmly pushed him back down on the sofa and pulled a blanket up over him.

"Because I know," she said softly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have hit you." Then he did something that surprised her. He grinned.

"You always did have a fiery temper, Weasley." She sighed and got up to leave. He reached out and grabbed her hand, but not at all roughly, and she sat back down beside him. "Ginny." He said. Nothing more. Then he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep, exhausted by the battle of wills. She smoothed back the black hair from his forehead, the strands returning to their platinum blond color as her fingers ran through them. She lightly ran her fingers over his bruises, and they vanished under her touch. Soon, he looked much more like the Malfoy she remembered from Hogwarts, but still gaunt and emaciated. She rose and went into the kitchen and let him sleep.

Hermione walked into the kitchen a few minutes later to find Ginny with her head down on the kitchen table.

"Ginny, are you alright," she asked, thinking that Ginny was crying. But after a moment she realized that Ginny had fallen asleep. So she shook her awake. "Ginny, you must have been up all night with him. Go get some sleep, he'll be fine for awhile." Ginny nodded drowsily and went upstairs to collapse on her bed.

A few hours later she awoke and rolling over, she realized that there were blond hairs on her pillow. She was startled for a moment before she realized that Malfoy had been sleeping in her bed. She snuggled back against the pillow, feeling oddly content. Suddenly she realized what she was doing. _Ginevra Weasley, what in Merlin's name are you thinking? He's a Malfoy. You're a Weasley. They don't mix. He doesn't even like you, he thinks you're a blood traitor. _

No he doesn't, she realized. He was a "blood traitor" himself. He had failed to kill Dumbledore, he couldn't do it. He wasn't a killer. He was on the run from both the Ministry and from You-Know-Who. Voldemort, she corrected herself firmly. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, Hermione often told her. She reminded herself that he had once been Tom Riddle, and she had survived that. It still made her shudder.

She went downstairs to check on Malfoy, and found Harry sitting with him. They were talking in low voices with their heads close together, and Harry was nodding. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a moment they sensed her presence. Harry looked him and nodded at her once, then rose to leave them alone. Harry had changed so much in the past months. He seemed years older, and was much more quiet. His own hot temper seemed to have cooled. But now her thoughts turned to Draco. She started internally, realizing that at least in her head, she was calling him by his first name.


	10. The Explanation

"How are you feeling," she asked quietly.

"Much better. I'd like to take a shower actually." She nodded and helped him up the stairs as much as he would let her, and led him to one of the bathrooms. After she left him with some thick, soft towels, he stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. The dark mark still burned on his skin, but his bruises were gone, and his hair was blond again, though it was still long. His cheekbones still stuck out, but he was more Malfoy pale and less unhealthy pale than before. He knew that it was all thanks to Ginny. She was the most powerful witch he'd ever met. He couldn't believe he'd underestimated her at school. Slughorn hadn't, the old rascal. All because of one bat-bogey hex. He remembered that day vividly, as he remembered most days in which Ginny had been involved. He remembered talking about her in their car, and how Pansy had suddenly seemed quite jealous of the pretty young redhead. And no wonder, with her own little pug-nosed face. He chided himself, after all, he hadn't minded snogging her at the time. Then he remembered the sense of relief he'd felt when Zabini had sneeringly said he wouldn't touch a little blood traitor like her. He hadn't wanted anyone else to touch her, and it had driven him crazy when she'd started snogging Potter. Potter didn't know anything about women, that was clear. Just look at what had happened with that Cho girl, always running off crying about her old boyfriend.

But Draco wouldn't have dated her anyways. His father would have been furious, and somehow Draco didn't think even the walls of Azkaban would protect him from his father. Not to mention the wrath of the Dark Lord. Those had been terrifying days, despite the front that he put up, one of greatest importance. He'd bullied Crabbe and Goyle into helping him, but really he'd been terrified the whole time. He didn't particularly care what happened to Lucius, but he wanted to protect his mother and himself at all costs, and so he agreed to have the mark burnt onto him, and to kill Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had been right, the day he died. Draco had made half-hearted attempts through poison and cursed jewelry, but he'd really been hoping that he would never have to do it face to face. He'd told Potter all of this, and Potter seemed to understand. They came to a sort of unspoken truce, where Potter would not hold the past and his family against him, and he would not taunt Potter about mudbloods, black dogs, or anything else. Granger seemed to be reserving judgement, and Weasley would never tolerate him. But Ginny was quiet and soft and gentle, but with a fire burning inside of her, and incredible power. During sixth year, they had all attempted to learn nonverbal magic, but no one had successfully grasped that on top of wandless magic. He knew a few witches and wizards had the ability, but only after years and years of practice. Here she had mastered the ability within a very short year.

He hoped that she could find it in her heart to care for him. He had to tell her everything, and then she would know. He wanted no secrets from her. He wanted to be hers. Had wanted to be hers since the year she came to Hogwarts, but he'd been too idiotic to admit it.

He got out of the shower and toweled himself off. He found a brush and ran it through his hair, slightly amused at how low-maintenance he'd become. He remembered a time when he'd spent more time on his hair than most girls did, carefully gelling each strand until he knew it would never move out of place. He then dressed and went downstairs to look for Ginny, and found her sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. She smiled at a much cleaner, better-smelling Draco and conjured him up a cup of tea as well.

"Are you alright, Draco?" She said, casually, trying it out. He smiled at her, looking somewhat nervous, but didn't bite her head off, so she assumed it was alright to continue using his name.

"I'm fine, Ginny," he said, returning the informality. Truth was, he was absolutely terrified. He had no idea how she would react to what she was about to say, but it had to be good that she was calling him Draco and not Malfoy or prat. He just prayed she wouldn't hex him. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you, but there was never a good time." She looked at him, expectantly, and so he went on, feeling slightly more encouraged. "I never wanted to be a Death Eater. But my father was in Azkaban, and Voldemort was threatening to kill my mother and me. I couldn't let him kill her, and the only way he wouldn't was if I promised to do whatever he told me to do. I foolishly told him I would, and that's when he ordered me to kill Voldemort. I think now that he never expected me to succeed, and that he was punishing my father. He was right though, I never wanted to kill Dumbledore, even though I hated him. I always felt as if he could see right through me. So, I made attempts that I knew would fail, thinking I could placate Voldemort without actually killing Dumbledore. I was hoping I would never have to do it face to face, but Ginny, things got out of hand. Voldemort was putting more and more pressure on me, and so I got the Death Eaters into the school." She was starting to glare at him. "Damn it, it all got out of hand. I never intended Greyback to come, and when I heard what he did to your brother, I blamed myself for it."

"Good!" She yelled, unable to contain herself. "We could have all been killed!" She rose angrily, ready to storm out, but he grabbed her and held on with more strength than she would have guessed he had.

"I hate myself for doing it. I should have gone to Dumbledore for help, but I was terrified that Voldemort would find out. I'm not good enough at Occlumency to keep him from finding that out, he's too strong. I'm sure there was something else I could have done, but I couldn't think clearly at the time. All I could think about was my mother. And, Ginny, Dumbledore knew all along, and he didn't go. I can't figure out why. And he knew Snape was a traitor, that Snape was offering to help me. Ginny, I think he meant for Snape to kill him. I don't know why."

"You're lying, Malfoy." But she saw in his eyes that he wasn't. She was confused and hurt, and couldn't understand why Dumbledore would let something like that happen. What would they do, now that he wasn't around to protect them anymore? The world was falling apart, and it was all because Dumbledore had died. She only realized that she was crying when Draco reached out and gently brushed the tears off of her cheek. He was crying too, and suddenly they were clinging to each other, tears soaking each others' clothes. Silent tears streamed down both of their face as she curled up in his lap and he stroked her hair soothingly. Neither of them heard the door open and close until they heard a voice say,

"Ron's coming." They looked up with tear-streaked face to see Hermione standing there, an odd look on her face. They quickly wiped their face clean, and Ginny flicked her finger to reheat the cups of tea and conjured up two more. By the time Ron came into the kitchen, Hermione was chatting away about the transfiguration that they were going to practice, and Ginny and Draco were staring at each other. He looked from one to the other, and shrugged, unable to figure it out. At least they were on opposite sides of the table.


	11. Friends and Magic

Ginny excused herself after awhile, unable to take the awkwardness of the situation, and went up into her room to write in her nice, normal, muggle diary. Feelings of confusion washed over her once more, as she remembered what it had felt like to be held by Draco. She forgave him everything, it was clear that he was being tortured by what he had done. She had felt when she found him that he could be trusted, and she felt that she had been right. And she realized, that he must have told Harry everything that time when they had been talking, and that's why Harry had nodded. She realized that he knew everything, and wondered if he had been practicing legilimency or if he had just grown more able to read people. Now it seemed that only Ron was left out of the loop, but she wondered how long that would remain the case now that Hermione knew, or at least, could probably guess.

Then Ginny reminded herself that nothing was going on with Draco. They had just become friends and were comforting each other. A soft knock came at the door, and she went to open it. It was Draco.

"Do you want to be alone?" He asked quietly, not looking at her. Indeed, he seemed to find his feet strangely fascinating at that particular moment.

"No," she said. He came in, and they sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed for a moment.

"Do you hate me?" He asked so quietly she almost couldn't hear him. She shook her head.

"No. I understand." He nodded, still looking at his feet hanging off of the edge of the bed. She made him look at her and then took his hand.

"Friends, then?" she said.

"Friends," he said, in a voice devoid of all the bitterness that he was feeling. She wanted him as a friend then. But she had fit so perfectly into his arms, and her hair had smelled so good. He had wanted to hold her there and protect her from all the pain in the world, but he was the one who had made her cry, and he hated himself for it. How could she love him. Love. Did he want her to love him? Yes. He loved her. He'd never actually thought the words before. He burned to tell her, but he couldn't. Not after everything he'd just told her. It's a wonder that she wanted to be near him at all, when it was his fault that her handsome brother was forever scarred and would always eat his meat rare. He tried desperately to push the thoughts out of his mind by changing the subject. "When did you learn to do all of this magic? It's far beyond what we even learned in sixth year. We'd started with nonverbal magic, but hardly anyone could do it at all, and no one could do it without wands." She shrugged, as if dismissing her abilities.

"I don't know, honestly. Mostly, it just started with thoughts. I mean, as kids, didn't we all do some wandless magic, when we were upset or scared? Harry told me once he ended up on a roof and didn't know how he'd done it. So why, as adults, do we suddenly have to use wands? So I started thinking about that, and suddenly, my thoughts started manifesting. I started wishing that I didn't have to get up to get a cup of tea, and so one would appear in front of me. Took longer to learn to do more complicated stuff. I don't know why no one else does it." He looked at her, amazed at how simple she made it sound.

"Could you teach me," he said eagerly. She nodded.

"We should work on nonverbal stuff first. We're going to work on that with the others. It's easier I think if you start out with a wand. What?" She asked, seeing his disappointed look.

"My wand broke," he said. "When I was running away from the Death Eaters after the attack on Hogwarts. At first, we were running together, but then Amycus pointed out that I'd failed in my task, and so they decided to try to kill me. They thought I was weak, and a traitor." A dark look shadowed his face, and she put her arms around him to try to drive it away.

"We'll find a new one for you, somehow," she said. "I don't know where, now that Ollivander is gone. I've never heard of any other place for wands near here." He nodded, his eyes flashing with anger.

"He's on the other side, you know." She gasped, surprised.

"No, I didn't. I can't believe it." He shrugged. 

"He's always had great admiration for the 'terrible' things that the Dark Lord did."

"This whole world has gone completely upside down. We don't know who to trust anymore, or who will be here tomorrow. I thought Dumbledore would always be here, and he's not." Draco nodded.

"And you're sitting here with me, and we're not trying to hex each other into oblivion." This made Ginny smile at him, a sight he thought he could see a thousand times a day and not tire of.


	12. I Love You

Suddenly, Ron burst into the room. "Draco Malfoy, what are you doing in my sister's room?" Draco laughed suddenly and surprisingly.

"Weasley, I've been sleeping here for days. Did you honestly just notice?" Ron couldn't find the words to explain why it was different when Ginny and Malfoy were sitting together on the bed, so he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. A few seconds later he came back and opened the door wide and then stormed out again.

They both laughed, the mood lightened by Ron's overprotectiveness.

"Honestly, you'd think he'd never seen me with a boy before. He walked in on me and Dean snogging once, I thought he'd have a heart attack." Draco suddenly hated Dean Thomas with far more passion than the poor boy deserved simply for going out with a pretty girl. But Draco had come to terms with the fact that where Ginny was concerned, he couldn't be reasonable. He just didn't like the idea of other boys kissing Ginny.

"Well who can blame Dean?" Ginny laughed, and then stopped, saying dramatically:

"Well! Did the great high and mighty Draco Malfoy just give a Weasley a compliment? I do believe Severus Snape just kissed the ground at Harry Potter's feet." He threw a pillow at her and she threw it right back at him. Then he grabbed her and started tickling her, pinning her down with one arm. She pretended to fight back, although they both knew she could easily overcome him in his weakened state. She managed to get one hand free and tickled him back, and soon they were both lying on the floor laughing and trying to catch their breath. He leaned over her, ready to tickle her some more, but then their eyes locked, and before he could think, he was lowering his face to kiss her.

"Ginny, are you alright? I heard something fall and oh my—." Hermione trailed off as she entered the room. Harry was two steps behind her and nearly collided with her.

"What's going--? Oh." Draco and Ginny sat up, and she turned bright red, while he grew paler. Luckily they were sitting when Ron joined everyone else.

"What's everyone looking at?" He demanded.

"Nothing," Hermione soothed, pushing him out of the room. Harry followed them out, leaving Ginny and Draco staring at each once again.

"You were going to kiss me," she said bluntly after a few moments of silence. He nodded, slowly, wondering how she was going to react. He thought maybe she'd hex him. Or at the very least kick her out of the house. What he didn't expect was what she did next.

She kissed him. Deeply. And he wrapped his hands in her long red hair and devoured. He pulled her tightly to him and they kissed and kissed. Finally, they pulled apart slightly and looked at each other. She was flushed and breathing heavily, and he wasn't doing much better.

"I love you, Ginevra Weasley." She stared at him for a moment, and for the second time that day did something he wasn't expecting. She ran out of the room and he heard her racing down the stairs. He sat on her floor without moving for a very long time, and then rose and went into another room and shut the door behind him.


	13. Ron's Reaction

Ginny locked herself in the bathroom and stared into the mirror at herself. Draco had just told her he loved her, but was it really possible? Did she even want it to be? Suddenly, she realized very much that she wanted it to be true. He was what she'd been waiting for. Snogging Dean and the other boys had been nice, but even kissing Harry hadn't been like this. She felt something inside her welling up, she felt as if she were on fire. She was pretty sure no boy had ever made her as flushed as she was right now, staring into the mirror. She grabbed a brush and started furiously brushing her copper locks, trying not to think of Draco's hands running through her hair. He might be trustworthy as far as the war went, but could a leopard really change his spots? He had tormented her for years, and been all over that repulsive Pansy Parkinson.

But there had been sparks, on both sides. And why would he say something like that? He was what she wanted, she was sure of it. But was she wanting something impossible?

She stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over her, relaxing her. She tried to push Draco out of her head by fiercely scrubbing her skin. About twenty minutes later she climbed out of the shower feeling much more refreshed. Her hair dried as she ran her brush through it, and she briefly wondered for the umpteenth time how muggles managed without magic. Everything must take them twice as long, she thought.

She went downstairs in a much better mood to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting at the kitchen table. They stared at her when she came in.

"What," she said, only slightly defensively.

"How long has this been going on?" Ron demanded, finally having figured things out.

"_It_ hasn't been going on at all. Nothing happened. We were just fooling around." Wrong choice of words. Ron exploded.

"_Fooling around with a MALFOY?" _His voice got louder and louder as he continued. "He's just using you, you know that? You can't trust a Malfoy. He was in Slytherin, and he called 'Mione a mudblood more times than I can remember! How dare you fool around with him. I won't have my little sister be a…a…." Words seemed to fail him at this point, but Ginny's own Weasley temper kicked in.

"Why don't you just say it Ron? A slut?" Harry stood up, shoving back his chair.

"She's not a slut, Ron. She's not a kid anymore. You have to let her make her own decisions!" Ron gaped at Harry's response.

"Harry! Why are you on her side? You dating her, I'm fine with. But Malfoy? Blimey, Harry, I thought _you_ were in love with her?" As soon as he said it, Ron shut his mouth and silence fell over the room. Harry glared at his best friend and stormed out of the room. After an awkward pause, Ginny ran out too, but she didn't follow Harry.

She went to the only shut door on the upper floor and banged on it.

"Who is it," Draco called out.

"It's me," she said. "Open the damn door." He did and she rushed at him so quickly he almost fell. She was crying, and so he pulled her to him, confused, and let her cry. Finally, she dried her eyes. "It's that stupid git, Ron, always trying to run my life. When's he going to realize that I'm almost of age?"

"I don't know, Ginny. Guys are weird sometimes, we get protective. I'd probably be mad if I were him too." He gave a wry smile. Winning over Ginny's brother would not be an easy task, and would require overcoming years of verbal abuse. "Ginny…" he said, and she looked up at him. "Ginny, do you want to be with me? I mean, I understand if you don't. I've done horrible things, and everything that's happening, it's all my fault. Maybe I should leave, I'm just screwing up more by being here, making you fight with your brother, getting in the way of you and Harry." On the last part, a lump caught in his throat. She answered by wrapping her arms around him and kissing him fiercely.

"I don't want Harry. I want you, Draco."


	14. Trust

They broke apart a few moments later, breathless. He pulled her to him, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, copper and gold strands mixing together. He didn't dare ask if she loved him. It was enough of a miracle that she wanted to be with him at all. He wanted so badly to say it again, over and over again, to make her believe it, but he didn't want her to run out of the room again.

Ginny relaxed at last. As long as the door into the room stayed shut, she and Draco had a sanctuary to be together, and she didn't have to worry about Ron or Harry. She could just think about Draco, the slender fingers running up and down her arms, giving her chills. No, there was no doubt about it. This was very different from Dean. And Harry. She didn't want to think about that too much. She didn't want to hurt Harry, but she couldn't help falling in love with someone else. Realizing the thought that had just crossed her consciousness, she tried it out again. Yes, she realized, she was very much in love with Draco Malfoy. A slow smile crossed her face.

"You look happy," he said softly, smiling back at her. She nodded and sat up to kiss him again, before leaning back into his arms. He took a lock of hair and twirled it around his fingers, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Draco playing with her hair. She reached up and ran her fingers through his own near-white locks.

"I hope you don't mind that I changed your hair back," she said. "You looked a little Snape-ish with black hair." He winced at the name, and she quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"I know, Ginny." Suddenly, he winced again.

"Draco, what is it?" He shook his head, but the look of pain lingered on his face. Understanding flashed across her own face, and she pushed up his sleeve, to reveal the burning Dark Mark. "Oh no." He quickly pushed the sleeve back down, but instead of the revulsion he expected to see on her features, he saw only compassion.

"He's gaining power, Ginny. I hope Harry can stop him. But he's seems invincible. I don't know if it's possible." Ginny hesitated. She wanted to tell him the plan, hoping that perhaps he could help figure out what the sixth horcrux was. But, logic argued, how did she know if she could trust him, when the mark still burned on his arm? She had found him, wandering in the street, and she had brought him into the house. But love said that she could trust him. And besides, her heart argued slyly, if he was a traitor, they were already doomed because he knew where they were hiding. Logic and love warred within her, and she couldn't decide.

"He does have a plan. There's a way for Harry to do it. But, I can't tell you yet. I have to talk to Harry." Draco nodded, feeling only the slightest bitterness. "Oh Draco, it's not that I don't trust you. It's just…it has to do with Dumbledore, and I want Harry's permission to tell you." He nodded again. She had said that she wanted to be with him, not Harry, but maybe only because Potter had grown so distant. Perhaps she still loved him. After all, how long did it take for a six-year infatuation to die away? Surely not overnight. And he'd heard Ron shout downstairs, that Harry was in love with Ginny.

"Gin, you'd better go," Draco said softly, not looking at her. "They'll be looking for you, and Weas—Ron won't like it if you're up here with me too long." Her eyes flashed.

"And what makes you think I care a bit what Ron thinks? He called me a…well, never mind, but I came to you anyways. I love you, Draco!" It slipped out, but it was worth it to see the look on his face as he crushed her against him, kissing her deeply, hands tangled in her hair. Her declaration seemed to have given him renewed strength, from the way that he held her.

After a few more moments of frenzied kissing, he released her. "Now go," he said. "I know you don't care what Ron thinks, but I don't want him to kill me either. Don't forget, I don't have a wand, or your abilities without one." She slipped out the door, looking back at him with one more smile. When he turned away, he saw a new set of robes on the floor, with silver embroidery.


	15. Horcruxes

Draco picked up the soft black fabric and held it out to look at the embroidery. Where a house logo would usually go, there was an embroidered silver dragon. He smiled to himself at her thoughtfulness. After all, houses no longer existed. Hogwarts was no more. That thought saddened him. He had loved Hogwarts, in his own way. Yes, he'd been a bully, and he'd regretted that. But he'd been away from the pressure at home. His father was strict and critical, and it had always been a relief to get away from that. Compared to his father, McGonagall was about as intimidating as a flobberworm. And all the years of trying to impress his father had done nothing. His last ditch effort, becoming a Death Eater, he'd even failed at that. A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. That was one area in which he wasn't sorry to have failed his father. Bullying was one thing, murder, another entirely. He would never forget the look in Dumbledore's eyes during the final moments of his life. He had seemed resigned to his fate, even as he knew Draco wouldn't kill him. Dumbledore had known what was going to happen, Draco was sure of it. But why hadn't he stopped it? Why had he frozen Harry against the wall, hidden safely under his invisibility cloak. Between the two of them, Harry and Dumbledore could have defended themselves against the Death Eaters, Draco was sure of it. It was almost as if Dumbledore had sacrificed himself. But why, when the wizarding world needed him more than ever.

Draco stopped pacing up and down and sat in a chair in the corner, the robe spread out over his lap as he tried to fit the pieces together. Something was missing. Where had Dumbledore and Harry gone, leaving the school in the middle of the night? The others knew, he thought. Maybe that's what Ginny had wanted to tell him. When he had talked with Harry that night, Harry hadn't told Draco what had happened before they got to the castle, only what he'd seen from the safety of his cloak. Draco was lucky that Harry had been there that night. It's the only reason that Harry trusted him at all now.

He leaned back in his chair, fingering the folds of fabric, wondering what Snape had to do with it all. His father hated Snape for playing Dumbledore's stooge, but in the end, Snape had proved his loyalty well enough. But something wasn't quite right about the situation. Snape had hesitated, Draco was sure of it. If he had truly hated Dumbledore, it should have been easy. Suddenly, another Weasley shouting match abruptly brought him out of his thoughts.

"Ginny, I tell you we can't trust him. Just because you're snogging behind closed doors doesn't mean anything. He's just using you to get to Harry. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

"That's not true," Ginny shouted.

"Oh yeah? What about Snape, then? I knew it all along, so did Harry, but no, everyone kept telling us that he'd changed. And we were right all along!" Harry said something to Ron in a low voice that Draco couldn't hear, and then Ron shouted back "Yeah, well, just because he didn't kill Dumbledore doesn't mean anything. He was just afraid he couldn't do it." Suddenly, there was a loud bang, like someone had hit a table or the wall, and Harry finally raised his voice.

"Look, Ron. You weren't there. I saw him, I saw his face. He didn't want to do it. The only reason he was going to in the first place is because he was afraid of Voldemort."

"Don't say his name," Ron cut in quickly.

"And so are you. And you should be until…" at this point he lowered his voice again and Draco couldn't hear what he said. They continued for awhile in hushed tones, and Draco wished he had a pair of Extendable Ears. By this point, he'd pressed his own deficient ear against the door, and he heard footsteps coming. He had just made it back to his chair when the door opened and Ginny came in.

"Sorry," she said. "I bet you heard every word." He nodded, and she grinned a little ruefully. "Ron's stubborn as anything. He just refuses to think that anything might be different now." He laughed softly and pulled her into his lap. 

"I think stubbornness is a Weasley trait." She playfully tapped him on the nose.

"You don't even know, Malfoy." She bent and kissed him swiftly. "But I want to tell you. Harry decided that you should be told what's going on, he thinks you can help us."

"Help you what?"

"Help us find the horcruxes." Draco pulled back suddenly. 

"Horcruxes?" She nodded, worried at the look on his face. He abruptly pushed her off and started pacing.

"I didn't know you'd know what they were," she said. He nodded.

"Father had a book on horcruxes in his library. Your father never found it on any of his raids because it was bewitched to look like some boring book on the care of flobberworms." He paced faster now. "You said horcruxes. Plural. Do you mean he has more than one?" He glanced at her for affirmation and she nodded.

"He has, or rather, had" she corrected herself "six of them. Seven being a magical number. It pleased him." Draco nodded at this.

"It would. Unbelievable. No wonder he is so dark and twisted. There must be hardly any soul left in his body. Do you know what they are?"

"We know that one of them was his grandfather's ring, and Dumbledore destroyed that. And we're pretty sure that Slytherin's locket was one. That's where they went that night, to try to find it and destroy it, but someone named R.A.B found it first and left a note." At the initials, Draco looked up suddenly but said nothing. "And we think that Helga Hufflepuff's cup is one, because Riddle stole it. Dumbledore thought maybe Nagini was one, and then something belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw or Godric Gryffindor. Probably Ravenclaw, because Gryffindor's sword is the only known relic, and that's safe at Hogwarts." He looked at her for a long time.

"You only named five." She nodded, looking away from him.

"The other one is destroyed. Harry destroyed it. It was Tom Riddle's diary." He went to her then and wrapped her in his arms. His father had gloated over that particular scheme.

"_Imagine, a Weasley opening the Chamber of Secrets. Oh the scandal for poor Arthur Weasley. We get rid of the mudbloods, and his daughter takes the blame."_

"If I could take back everything my father did, I would," he said softly. "But I can't. Now the best I can do is try to make up for it myself. I think I know who R.A.B. is. But go get Harry." She nodded and ran out the door. They came back together, with expectant look on their faces.

"Who is he, Draco?" Harry asked in a quiet voice, not daring to hope that Draco might be able to help.

"Regulus Alphard Black." Draco said dramatically. His words did not have the intended effect.

"We already thought of that. But Sirius told us that Regulus was never important enough to be killed by Voldemort himself, so how would he know where the horcruxes were, if he knew about them at all?" Harry asked. But Draco shook his head.

"Sirius didn't know what he was talking about." Harry started to get the angry flashing in his eyes that appeared when anyone insulted his deceased godfather. "No offense, Harry, but he wasn't a Death Eater. He didn't know. In fact, I don't think many people knew just how close Black was to Lord Voldemort. He did a lot secret work for Voldemort, things Voldemort didn't want anyone to know about. It makes perfect sense." Harry nodded slowly, accepting this explanation.

"But then what happened to the locket?"

"You're in the Black mansion, Potter," said Draco, a hint of the old sneer back. But catching Ginny's eyes, he quickly dropped the act. "Have you seen anything that might be it?" They both shook their heads, then Ginny realized something.

"What about that old locket that used to be in the glass case? Could that be it?" Harry shook his head.

"No, it didn't have Slytherin's seal on it, like the one that I saw in the memories Dumbledore showed me last year. Besides, I hope that's not it. Sirius got rid of along with a bunch of other stuff."

"Harry, maybe it was disguised. After all, Voldemort wouldn't want it to be too recognizable. What happened to all the stuff Sirius got rid of?" Harry, stunned, realized that the answer might have been within reach all along.

"Kreacher!" He shouted.


	16. The Locket

Kreacher appeared with the usual popping noise that accompanies apparition, and immediately began grumbling under his breath about serving the filthy half-blood, when suddenly he noticed Draco. His already large eyes bulged and he went back to his muttering, but now showing some confusion regarding the presence of a pureblood in this filthy mix of bloodtraitors, half bloods, and mudbloods.

"Kreacher, did you steal a locket from this house?" Kreacher twisted his hands in the heavily soiled pillowcase that he wore, obviously not wanting to answer, but compelled to by his master. He nodded. "Kreacher, bring me the locket." Kreacher disapparated with a pop, never having ceased grumbling and apparated again a few minutes later bearing the large, heavy locket.

"_Specialis Revelio"_ Ginny said with a flick of her wrist, and sure enough, Slytherin's crest appeared on the gold front of the locket. Everyone grinned at their success, except for Kreacher who took their attitudes as dismissal and vanished with one final pop. Harry picked up the locket somewhat gingerly.

"This must be it. But how do we destroy it? Dumbledore never told me that much, but he must have known how, because he destroyed Gaunt's ring." Ginny contradicted him.

"He didn't destroy Gaunt's ring, remember? You told us that it just had a crack in the stone. So you must have to destroy the soul, but you don't necessarily have to destroy the object. You didn't destroy Riddle's diary either, you just destroyed the soul with the basilisk poison." Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"So it's possible that the souls are mortal, like bodies almost, since you destroyed the diary Horcrux with a poison," Draco pointed out. Harry nodded.

"But how do I penetrate the Horcrux?"

"Especially without hurting yourself, Harry. Remember Dumbledore's hand?" Ginny asked. Draco started pacing, trying to remember what he'd read in his father's book about Horcruxes. Suddenly he stopped.

"I think I know how to open the locket. But we need to be able to destroy the locket as soon as we open it. I think if we open it, and pour poison into it, it should destroy the soul, right? But it needs to be a really powerful poison."

"I'll check in the attic," Harry said. "Mrs. Black had all sorts of dark things up there, I don't see why poison wouldn't be included." He left, leaving Draco and Ginny alone. She went into his arms almost immediately.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm scared." He laughed softly and she looked up at him, startled.

"Ginny Weasley, you never cease to amaze me. You've been possessed by Voldemort, nearly killed by him, and yet you still say his name when people who have never come face to face with him can't. You face down all of your brothers at any given time and you are braver than any girl I've ever known. And now you tell me you're afraid and not to tell anyone. Don't worry, your tough image is safe with me." She laughed then, and snuggled against him.

"What if this doesn't work," she asked quietly. He was quiet then for a long time.

"Then we figure something else out," he said. "We have to." She heard the core of steel in his voice that had been building, unseen for years. She had thought he was cold and cruel, but he had been afraid too, afraid of the disapproval of his once-beloved father. She wondered what it had been like. She had always been the adored youngest daughter of a warm and loving family, alternately pestered and protected by six big brothers. She had enjoyed true friendships, while his were based on familial prestige and bullying. What kind of life had he led, compared to hers. All her life she'd been poor, but she wouldn't have traded her life for all of the Malfoy's wealth. Then they heard the door open, and they broke apart. Harry came in carrying a small black vial, and accompanied by Ron and Hermione.

"Let's do this," he said grimly.


	17. New Arrivals

Before they could do anything however, a soft knocking came at the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. Ginny ran down the stairs to open it, praying that it was important to interrupt what had been about to happen, and she found Luna Lovegood standing there with a very tired looking Hannah Abbott.

"Luna, Hannah, what are you doing here?"

"Harry sent us an owl telling us you were here, and inviting us to start the D.A. again." Ginny nodded slowly.

"But you weren't supposed to come for another three days. That's when Neville and the others are coming." Internally, she wasn't quite surprised that the often confused girl was early, but she was glad to see her best friend.

"My father sent me along with Luna this summer, since they were traveling. He thought it would be safer for me than staying in one place, since my mother…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. It seemed unusual that Mr. Abbott would have sent Hannah off with the Lovegoods, but the next sentence answered Ginny's unasked question. "I think I remind him too much of her." Ginny didn't blame Hannah for sounding broken-hearted, and put her arm around her and led her into the kitchen, a miniature Mrs. Weasley in bloom.

"You two stay here, we'll be right down." The two girls nodded and Ginny quickly conjured up two cups of tea for them, ignoring Hannah's gasp of amazement. Nothing of course ever surprised Luna Lovegood. She raced back up the stairs two at a time just in time to hear Ron say,

"Don't give it to him, Harry. He'll just jinx you or something." Ginny opened the door to see Draco reaching out his hand for Harry's wand.

"Honestly, Ron. He could have killed us all while we were sleeping by now. What is it going to take for you to trust him?" Hermione argued in an exasperated tone of voice.

"Ron, we don't have time for this," Harry said, and handed Draco the wand. Draco pointed the wand at the locket and said,

"_Apertum torquatus!" _The locked popped open and Draco shouted, "NOW!" Hermione quickly poured the contents of the vial over the mist that began to pour out of the inside of the locket. The mist turned red, then black and began to make odd contortions and shapes. Harry began to see the shape of a dementor take form, and quickly grabbed his wand back to conjure his patronus. The silvery stag lowered his antlers and charged the mist, which emitted an awful shriek before evaporating. The locket slammed shut, and when they looked at it, the gold had turned to black. They all let out a collective sigh of relief, the breath that none of them had realized that they had been holding.

"That's three down, three to go," Harry said weakly.


End file.
